Chapter 20

Sending a note to Mr. Hudson did not feel sufficient. Considering how well he’d treated Harriet, offering her a promotion she probably wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere, Brody decided it would be best to meet him in person. It would also be easier for Brody to convince Mr. Hudson of his need to keep Harriet on, if it came to that.

He set off after eating a quick breakfast and left the servants with instructions to give Mr. Michaels some toast, should he wake before Brody returned. It was almost six-thirty. The duel would have ended a while ago and Finn would soon be returning.

Hopefully in one piece.

Whenever Brody had glanced at a clock last night, he’d thought of Finn and how he was faring. He hastened his strides, praying he’d manage to get home before his brother.

Thankfully, Mr. Hudson, a self-proclaimed morning man, had already opened the office when Brody showed up. He entered the office and approached the man’s desk with every intention of seeing to Harriet’s best interests.

“Good morning, Mr. Hudson.”

“You’re earlier than usual today, Mr. Evans. Good to see you. There’s some tea in the back room if you’d like to help yourself to a cup before the others get here.”

“Thank you, but I fear I’m unable to stay.” He pulled up a chair and sat so he could face his employer with greater directness. “I went back to check on Mr. Michaels yesterday – to see if he needed help with his sister.”

“That was very good of you.” Mr. Hudson studied Brody. “It’s unusual for the editors and the print staff to mingle. Most of the men out here in the front consider themselves better than those who’ve got ink-stained fingers.”

“An arrogant point of view,” Brody muttered, “and not one I share. If anything, the print staff have the harder work, yet they accomplish it like a well-oiled machine.”

“I’m of a like mind. Mr. Michaels alone is more indispensable than anyone else in my employ.”

“It’s good to hear you say so since it will no doubt make this conversation a great deal simpler. Unfortunately, Mr. Michaels has caught the same thing that brought his sister low. He ought to be ready for work the day after tomorrow, but until then, he needs to rest.”

Mr. Hudson’s eyebrows dipped in response to his frown. “I cannot afford for him to be absent another day. Not without someone else stepping in.”

“I’d do so if I were able, but I can’t.” Brody would not budge on this. He had to see Finn and beyond that, he’d no intention of leaving Harriet until he knew she was fully recovered.

“I’m sorry, but you must understand. The press is at a virtual standstill until he resumes his work. I’ve got three men waiting for him to show up. What are they supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Oliver’s able to fill the sorts. It won’t be as fast without a reader, but some of the work will get done.”

Mr. Hudson shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have to find a proper replacement this instant. Work on the manuscript you recommended needs to commence if we’re to get the book into shops before Christmas.”

“A day or two won’t prevent that from happening,” Brody insisted. “Mr. Michaels is a hard worker. More than that, he’s the best there is.”

“I agree, which is why this decision is so bloody hard to make. But the fact of the matter is, he isn’t here.”

“Considering the state he’s in, I can’t imagine you’d want him here.” Brody raked his hair with his fingers. “He’s been vomiting all night and has one hell of a fever. He can barely stand, yet you’re ready to punish him for remaining in bed.”

“As much as I sympathize, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m losing money while he’s away. He’s the most critical part of this enterprise, Mr. Evans. Surely you understand why I’m forced to do what I must to keep my business operational.”

“It’s just for a day or two,” Brody repeated.

“And I wish I could afford to wait, but I can’t.” He grabbed a piece of paper and started writing TYPESETTER NEEDED WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT.

“He’ll be back as soon as he’s fully recovered,” Brody said as he shoved to his feet. “In case you’ve not yet found a replacement or the new man doesn’t work out. You can decide what to do then.”

Mr. Hudson glanced at Brody. “You’re an honorable man, looking out for your friend in this way. I’m impressed, so I’ll agree to consider taking him back if he does decide to stop by. In the meantime…” He stood and crossed to the window where he proceeded to post the notice. Turning, he shoved his hands in his pockets and met Brody’s gaze. “What about you?”

“I already told you I can’t stay today.”

Mr. Hudson responded with a slow nod before grabbing a second piece of paper on which he announced the need for Brody’s replacement. It was fine. Brody didn’t need the job. It had just been the means to an end, right?

“Thank you for the chance you gave me,” Brody informed Mr. Hudson. He offered his hand and Mr. Hudson shook it. “Good luck with A Seductive Scandal.”

“A Seductive Scandal?”

“The title I had in mind for the novel.”

“A bit risqué,” Mr. Hudson murmured while tapping the edge of his mouth with one finger, “but it will certainly draw attention. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Brody tipped his hat in parting and left with an unhappy sense of unease in his stomach. He regretted having to leave since he’d gotten on well with his colleagues. Staying, however, would be impossible when his conscience compelled him to put his brother and Harriet first. And besides, he didn’t actually need the job.

But for Harriet, losing her source of income would be disastrous. Worse was the fact that she viewed her profession as more than the means with which to get by. She genuinely enjoyed her work. Finding out she might not be welcomed back would crush her.

Unhappy, Brody shoved his hands in his pockets and strode away, his posture hunched. The early morning air was cool and slightly damp with fog. He’d failed her. If he’d only had the sense to reveal his identity, he could have forced Mr. Hudson’s hand.

He stopped and glanced back in the direction of the publishing office. Maybe he ought to return and do precisely that.

No. Blackmail was not the honorable way to handle matters.

Certainly not when dealing with someone like Mr. Hudson. The man was only doing what he needed for the sake of his business. Threatening him would be wrong.

Expelling a weary breath, Brody resumed walking. He reached the next corner and prepared to cross when he heard Anthony calling to him.

“You’re out early,” Anthony said as he drew his horse close to where Brody stood.

“As are you.”

Anthony grinned. “I often go for a ride before breaking my fast. It’s a marvelous way to start the day.”

“As is a brawl, I’d imagine.” When Anthony gave him a puzzled look, Brody told him, “I’ve a good mind to pull you off that horse and give you a sound thrashing.”

Anthony’s grin faded. “Whatever for?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” When Anthony merely stared at him, Brody threw his arms up in exasperation. “You knew she wasn’t a man and you bloody well should have told me as much.”

“Ah.”

“Exactly so,” Brody muttered. He crossed his arms and glared at his friend. “What a laugh you and your wife must have had at my expense.”

“You’re wrong there, Brody.” Anthony’s voice was soft but grave. “Harriet’s secret was not ours to tell, but I must confess I hoped you’d find out if you spent additional time with her. It was clear to me that the two of you got along – that you cared for her and that—”

“We are not getting into what all of this led to.”

“Hold on.” Anthony’s eyes brightened. “You’re not suggesting you… Good lord, did you make a move on her while you still thought she was Harry?”

“As I said, we are not—”

Anthony howled with laughter. “Oh lord. You’ve given me an excellent idea for our next novel.”

“I’ll kill you.” Brody grabbed hold of Anthony’s leg. With one quick yank, he’d hauled him to the ground.

Anthony landed in a heap, still sputtering with mirth as he pulled himself upright. “A roguish duke persuaded to give up the fairer sex in favor of—”

Brody’s fist connected with Anthony’s jaw, sending him back into a sprawl. He frowned and rubbed at the spot where he’d taken the hit. “I suppose I deserved that. Help me up, will you?”

“I made an arse of myself. The fact that Harriet’s being a woman makes everything so much simpler is completely beside the point.”

“I can’t believe you never suspected.” Anthony stood, holding the reins while his horse pushed its muzzle against his shoulder.

“No one did.” Brody snorted. “Her disguise was very effective.”

“Only because you allowed it to be. Admit it, now that you know, it’s obvious she’s not male.”

Brody had to agree this was true. If one took the time to truly study Harriet’s features, there was no denying that her facial structure was most assuredly feminine. His only comfort was knowing he wasn’t the only one she’d fooled. None of her colleagues had any idea.

He nodded, then added, “I’ve got to get going. Finn will be back from his duel soon, and I want to check on Harriet too. She’s staying with me and—”

“At your house?” Anthony’s eyes looked ready to pop from his head.

“She’s sick with the same thing her sister had. I’m caring for her.”

“As Harry?”

“Of course. I didn’t even realize she was Harriet until after she was…” Brody scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not important. But yes, my servants also believe she’s a man.”

Anthony swung into the saddle. His gaze was serious as it met Brody’s. “Be sure to keep it that way if you plan to protect her reputation. She’ll be outed as a charlatan otherwise and possibly labeled a whore for living with two unmarried men.”

“I know. I’ll be careful.”

“Please do so or Ada will have my head. She did not support my insisting you go after Harriet yesterday. For precisely this reason.”

“Your wife’s a wise woman,” Brody said, “but I have to confess that I’m glad you did what you did.”

“Then why the hell did you punch me?”

“A matter of principal. You understand.”

Anthony chuckled, shook his head, and urged his horse into a trot, allowing Brody to head home. He arrived at his house just as a carriage pulled up. The door opened and Finn alit, followed by Rhys.

Brody rushed forward. The amount of relief he felt over seeing his brother alive could not be measured. As much as he’d tried to ignore the danger of dueling, convincing himself that all would be well since Ramsgate had only demanded first blood, Brody had feared for Finn. He’d worried he might provoke Ramsgate into trying to kill him instead.

Thankfully, this was not the case.

“How did it go?” Brody asked, his hand grabbing hold of Finn’s upper arm.

“I lost, which is as it should be.” Finn angled his jaw to show off the cut he’d received. Splotches of dry blood surrounded the wound. “Lady Fiona’s reputation will be preserved. From what I gather, she will be known as the innocent lady the devilish Marquess of Losturn attempted to tarnish. Thankfully, her hero father came to her rescue and no real harm was done.”

“And there will be no additional incidents such as this in the future?” Brody asked, his voice firm.

“Correct. I believe I’ve learned my lesson.”

“About bloody time,” Brody muttered. He considered his brother and the slightly forlorn look in his eyes. “I realize you think me a hypocrite due to my own history. You believe it unfair that I spent every night out with friends for more than two years, drinking, gambling, and chasing women. And it is, but as your older brother it’s my job to guide you and keep you from making the same mistakes I made.”

“Mistakes can be educational,” Finn said with the barest hint of a smile.

“Agreed, but they can also be ruinous. Pissing away the fortune Papa spent his life protecting is shameful beyond compare. We’re both to blame, and while I’ll allow that we needed to deal with our grief, destroying what our ancestors built isn’t the answer. It has to stop.”

“You’re right, but I’ll need a different distraction then, because losing Papa was…”

Finn’s voice cracked and Brody didn’t hesitate. He pulled his brother into his arms and held him while he wept. It didn’t matter that they were standing on a London pavement for all the world to see. The only thing of importance was being there for Finn.

“How’s your guest?” Finn asked with a sniff as they pulled apart seconds later.

“She had a rough night.” They entered the house where Rhys, who’d preceded them inside, stood waiting. Brody handed over his hat and gloves and followed Finn up the stairs. “I trust you’ll be taking a nap?”

They entered the upstairs hallway. “And you’ll be checking up on Miss Michaels?”

A maid exited one of the rooms. She bobbed a quick curtsey and moved toward the servant stairs.

“Despite there being an actual Miss Michaels present,” Brody whispered, “it would be prudent of us to refer to Harriet as Mr. Michaels as long as she’s here.”

“Understood.” Finn stopped in front of his bedchamber door while Brody continued toward Harriet’s. “I’ll see you later. If you can, you ought to get some rest too. Your eyes are bloodshot.”

Brody sent his brother a backward wave and heard his door open and close. Having reached Harriet’s room, he gave the door a gentle rap. A faint response from within urged him to ease the door open. He glanced toward the bed where Harriet sat, propped against her pillows, and entered.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” He closed the door and shifted his gaze to the bedside table. A plate containing a half-eaten piece of toast sat there. “Looks like you managed to get some food down.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I tried.”

“Have you been awake long?” he asked, removing his jacket while approaching the bed.

“Just half an hour or so.”

When he reached her, he pressed his palm to her forehead and felt his heart slow to a steadier rhythm. “You’re not as hot as before. I believe your fever’s decreasing.”

“My eyes are still warm and incredibly heavy. It hurts to keep them open.”

“Then close them and try to sleep a bit more. I’m sure you must be exhausted after what you’ve been through.”

“I am.” She’d closed her eyes as he suggested and pulled her covers up higher. Brody helped arrange them. He then checked the bucket and chamber pot to see if either needed cleaning.

“There’s nothing quite like the handsomest man you know looking to see if you’ve got some more vomit available for his perusal.” Harriet groaned.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” he chastised then sent her a broad smile. So he was the handsomest man she knew? He rather liked that, he decided, puffing out his chest a bit more.

She snorted. “I almost hope this is contagious, so I can give you the same kind of treatment.”

“The wonderful kind where I climb into bed and hold you against me?” He was already kicking his shoes off and shucking his jacket.

“I’ll admit that was rather lovely.” She hesitated briefly before saying, “I missed you when I woke and you weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry.” He climbed into the bed and drew her back up against his chest. “There was something I had to take care of. I’ll tell you about it later.”

For now, all he wanted was for them both to get the rest they needed. So he wound one arm around her and searched for her hand, then laced their fingers together and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck.

“Sleep well,” she murmured, her words quickly fading.

“You too.” He squeezed her hand for good measure and gave himself over to sleep.

When he woke once more, it was not to the gentle calm of the woman he loved being right there beside him, but rather to the sort of gasp every man feared – the kind that warned of an ensuing scandal.

It was followed by a horrified, “Praise the lord and all his apostles, my master’s a bugger!”